


Sometime It's Best Not To Explain

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Kinks, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-25
Updated: 2007-04-25
Packaged: 2018-09-03 07:14:27
Rating: Teen & Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8702701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Dad catches Dean in a very compromising situation...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** First post and totally unbeta'd so please be kind. Just a silly little thing that sprang from my mind while I was trying to do something else.

Title: Sometimes It's Best Not To Explain

 

by: Muni

 

Rated: PG-13

 

 

He was thinking, not for the first time, mind you, that there were probably easier things to explain to your dad than how a person could end up handcuffed to the bedpost naked and covered in chocolate syrup at 3:00 p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon in some second rate motel at the edge of some podunk town. Bad enough that Dad was standing in the open doorway scowling at him, brows knit so tight together it looked like his eyes were fused into one. Dean figured the best course of action would be to keep his mouth shut so as not to prematurely unleash the fury that Dad was barely keeping under wraps. 

 

Two teenage girls stopped to gawk and giggle from behind Dad’s left shoulder and were rewarded with a door being slammed squarely in their faces. 

 

With the closing of the door, the room was suddenly plunged into darkness, only a few slivers of sunlight piercing through the ratty old drapes hanging heavily across the windows. Dad’s duffel dropped to the floor with a resounding thud, causing Dean to jerk sharply against the cuffs that were already biting red rings into his wrists, his heart skipping erratically as he watched Dad move with deliberate slowness across the room. 

 

Dad bent unhurriedly toward the bedside table, palming the keys in his clenched fist before leaning over Dean’s prone form. Dad’s faced loomed so dangerously close, Dean could feel his warm breath fanning across his cheek.

 

“Dean.” 

 

Dean’s head snapped forward, eyes locked on some distant spot on the ceiling.

 

“Yes, Sir,” he responded, surprised that his voice didn’t crack under the pressure.

 

Dad exhaled sharply, making Dean blink involuntarily.

 

“Would you care to explain your situation?”

 

Dean cringed. “Not really, Sir,” he said, sounding a little less confident this time.

 

“Wrong answer, son,” Dad’s voice boomed in his ear, “I suggest you rethink that.”

 

“I didn’t expect you to get back so soon?” 

 

Dean cringed as Dad’s fist made contact with the side of the bed.

 

“Damn it, Dean,” he practically shouted. “This is the 3rd time this month! Do you have any idea how stupid this is? I thought you knew better than to leave yourself vulnerable like this!”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“And what about your brother?” Dad went on, “You let your 15 year old brother run around town by himself while you work out your… your bondage kink with some stranger?”

 

“No, Sir.”

 

“No what, Dean!”

 

Dean cleared his throat self-consciously. “I’m sure Sammy’s fine, Sir.”

 

Dad straightened abruptly and scrubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. Taking in a deep breath, he reached over and unlocked the handcuffs with one decisive flick of his wrist. Dean couldn’t help the groan that slipped from his lips as the cold metal clattered to the floor. 

 

“This thing ends right here, Dean,” Dad continued in the controlled but clipped tone usually reserved for orders that were never to be disobeyed. “If I catch you like this one more time, you can work out your handcuff fetish with the bumper of my truck.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“Get showered and changed,” Dad commanded. “Then you are to find your brother and meet me at the diner across the street no later than 1700 Hours.”

 

“Yes, Sir.” Dean said as he bolted for the bathroom, gobs of melted chocolate leaving a trail across the floor. 

 

Dean stood with his ear to bathroom door until he heard the telltale slam that indicated Dad had stomped off. Then, he clamored toward the open window.

 

“Sammy? You still there?” He whispered, still a little worried Dad might be nearby.

 

“Yeah.” Came the grumbled reply. “What took you so long? It’s like every bug in the county likes chocolate or something…”

 

Dean peered out the window at this brother, naked except for a thin towel wrapped around his scrawny little waist, swatting furiously at the flies hovering around him.

 

“Come on, Dean, hurry up,” Sam whined, “I’m dying out here.”

 

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Dean whimpered, “I really thought Dad was going to kill me this time.”

 

Dean stretched his arm out, grabbed hold of his brother’s forearm and hoisted him up through the window. He started the shower running and forced his pouting little brother into the tub.

 

“Hey, Sammy,” he said when they had both stepped into the warm water. “I just thought of something.”

 

Sam quirked an eyebrow at the shit-eating grin that suddenly lit up his brother’s face.

 

“Next time, you wanna try maple syrup?”

 

 

end


End file.
